


King Of The Clouds.

by psyleedee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airports, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Architect Dean Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Drunk Sex, Falling In Love, Fear of Flying, Fluff and Smut, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Gay Sex, M/M, Meet-Cute, Nervous Dean Winchester, Oral Sex, Pilot Castiel, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romance, Secret Identity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 12:18:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyleedee/pseuds/psyleedee
Summary: So of course Zachariah is a dick, and now Dean is on a fucking airport, the last place he'd like to be. Also, he's flying to Paris and honestly how are people not shit scared on those gigantic shitty metal boxes?But maybe if he hadn't been at the airport, he would've never met the weird, dorky guy with silly dressing sense who still looks hot as fuck.Now, if only luck was on his side, and he could meet the cute guy again.





	King Of The Clouds.

Dean sighed and fumbled through the magazines on the rack. He took a deep breath, fingering the edge of a Cosmopolitan, a GQ and an Entertainment Weekly. He pushed to the back, eyeing the stack of Freaky Foodie magazines. But no, he won't buy it. He doesn't want to get hungry again. Not to mention he freaking hates airport food.

Again, why was Dean 'flying-fucking-sucks' Winchester doing on a, god forbid, _airport_?  
Oh yeah. Probably something to do with his bitchass company sending him on a business trip to _Paris_.  
It was Zachariah's fault.  
His dumb bald head and his silly crooked nose and his whole _Paris is the key to your promotion, Winchester, but if you do not want to go, I could ask Spangler instead_ spiel.  
Dean mentally scoffed.  
Zach was evil alright. All he needed now was an army of fucking _minions_.

Dean moved over to the second rack of magazines, his fingers dropping down from Architectural Digest to-

Oh yeah.

He stepped back to take a good look at the only Batman comic book on the rack. It looked completely out of place, like someone had picked it out and then changed their mind and put it back randomly.

But where had it come from? Dean wandered over to the next aisle, looking for more comics. But… wait a minute? There was a stand with a Marvel banner on it but none of the books remained. So Dean wandered over back to the previous rack, where he'd seen his precious little Batman comic.

However, now a strangely dressed man had been browsing through the magazines. He was a bit shorter than Dean, looked young too; lean and toned arms and thighs, broad-chested.   
He was wearing a neatly pressed formal black pant, shining, polished black boots and a glimmering silver buckled belt. He was holding one of those sleek American Tourister bags with wheels, but the upper half of his wardrobe was a complete misfit.

He was wearing a hastily tucked plain white cotton t-shirt, and his dark raven hair seemed like it had a mind of its own. Tousled and untouched, like he'd come straight from bed. But it looked surprisingly good on him. He was flipping through one of the Architectural Digests, and then he placed it back, giving a sleepy yawn.

Dean looked back to the rack and reached out for his comic, but the man had reached for it too and their fingers brushed. Both of them pulled back with a hitch of breath. Suddenly the man's eyes were on Dean.  
Blue as the sky above them.  
He gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, um, you can have it."  
He shook his head, and gave a warm smile.

"Um, nah, thats okay- uh, go for it."  
Dean shrugged.  
 _Liar_. He thought. Dean was totally not cool with someone else taking it. It was the **last**  one, excuse me?!

"No, of course, I mean, I really am supposed to be doing important things right now, but you should take it. Besides, I've read that issue before."  
He glanced at the comic before his gaze settled on Dean again, and Dean felt unsettling as the man's face crinkled into an easy smile. Dean managed to smile back, but he knew it was nothing compared to the other's.

"Do you like Batman? or comics, in general?"  
Dean asked. Because if he had even a sliver of a chance that this man would be interested in him, he'd fucking take it.

"Oh yeah, I had boxes and boxes of comics when I was a kid. I bet my mother hasn't thrown them out still."  
His eyes moved towards the comic in a some what soft, reminiscing gaze as he spoke about his mother.

"That's great. Me too. I love Batman."  
Dean nodded and the man looked back at him.

"Well, if you're voice dropped any lower, maybe you'd sound like him."  
The man grinned.  
Dean scoffed.

"Well, I'm not gonna say I've never tried that before."  
The man arched an eyebrow and whoa, Dean feels really hot right now. Is it the air conditioning in the store? It probably is. Totally the fault of the air conditioning. They should get that checked.

"I'm sure it sounds very… intriguing."  
The man had a ghost of a smile on his lips, and a playful tone of voice and yep, Dean's found the lead for his shower time fantasies. _Congratulations on that, fucker._

Before Dean could say something stupid and mess the whole mood up, he looked down towards the comic and then back up. Mindlessly, his eyes fixed onto the man's lips. They looked soft, and a bit shiny? Was he wearing lip-balm? Cause that was fucking hot. Maybe he just has really chapped lips and he needs to use lip-balm. Or maybe it's his spit. Maybe he just licks his lip subconsciously. Oh okay, Dean's staring at them for too long. Earth to Dean. Earth to Dean.

Dean blinked nervously, before the man broke off their _intense_  silence, by stepping closer.

"You know, you can have the comic, I really don't mind."  
Now he smiled. The same tender smile from before.

Dean shook his head.  
"Naw, dude, that's okay. I just wanted to distract myself. 'S all."

"Oh, um, why? Is something bothering you?"  
The man tilted his head to the side, squinting his eyes a little, as if trying to point out a detail on Dean's face.

"No, its just- I hate flying. Airports, aeroplanes, in general. I'm kind of a nervous flyer, no actually I'm a huge nervous flyer."  
Dean poured out, and then like every other human being, regretted it in his mind.

The man smiled warm and in apprehension.  
"I understand. My mother was a very nervous flyer. She always relied on her cranky old Continental. But um, she got into a car accident a few years ago and fractured her leg. And when my siblings and I found out, we really didn't know what to do, I mean it was funny, it was ironic, but she was our mother so we were all damn worried too. Oh shit, I'm sorry, I just, have this thing where I get engrossed in a conversation, then I'll start babbling, I'm sorry-"

"Hey, no, of course not, you don't have to apologize. It was pretty cool by the way, I mean, I relate to your mom. I have this beautiful car who I love more than myself, but she's not that cranky. A hot lady, if you ask me."  
Dean smiled, and the man, knowing he didn't need to feel embarrassed anymore, smiled back.

"I'm Castiel."  
The man held out his hand.

"Dean."  
He accepted the handshake, eyes still locked onto _Castiel_.

"You know Dean, you should um, rub circles on your palm, with your thumb if you're nervous during take-off. Or just, you know, try thinking about anything other than the plane. Multiplication? That works. Try solving like- thirteen times twelve in your mind, or maybe fourteen times sixteen, something like that. Cause, that will instantly take your mind off things. Math sucks."

At this, Dean gave out a light laugh, in turn causing Castiel to smile wider.

"True. That's true."

"Think about someone at home. Someone waiting for you? Mom, dad, girlfriend... boyfriend?"  
Castiel laid a cautious emphasis on the last word, and Dean could almost feel his pulse beginning to race.

"Its a business trip. But no girlfriend… or boyfriend."  
Dean tried to sound as suggestive as possible, hoping Castiel would pick up on the undertones of what was going on.

"Oh. Then think about your business. And maybe try deep breathing exercises. They work too."  
Castiel said thoughtfully, to which Dean nodded.

"I'll surely try to remember this, Castiel."  
Dean tried the strange word on his tongue.  
"So where you flying to?"

"Paris."  
Castiel answered without a beat.

"Wow, me too- wait, what flight? Cause, mines American Airlines."

"The flight at 10.40 a.m.?"  
Castiel asked with a glint of hope in his eyes.

"Exactly."

They shared a smile, and maybe Castiel was blushing. Was he? Or were his cheeks just always this pink? Castiel looked away, and then mumbled quietly.

"That's nice…"

"Yeah. Sure is. So, maybe I'll be able to see you?"  
Dean inquired curiously, hoping like a child that he really would see Castiel again.

"Maybe, I mean, it is a big plane."  
Castiel seemed uncertain, which made Dean completely tumble over his head. What if Castiel wasn't into dudes at all? What if Dean had given him the wrong idea? What if Dean could never see him again? This man- this wonderful man- was probably straight as a stick.   
Disheartened, Dean gave a small shrug.

"So, um, Castiel, if you'd like to uh, meet up after the flight maybe-"

A loud ringing noise buzzed through the silence and Castiel gasped before reaching into his pockets. He pulled out his phone and swiped, holding it to his ear. He motioned at Dean to excuse him and walked a few steps away.

"Yes, Meg?… I'm at the bookstore... Hmm… I know. Sorry, I'll be there... No, I don't look like a hobo… Okay fine, whatever..."

Dean stood, awkwardly silent. Was he intruding? Who was Meg? His wife? No... Castiel seemed to young for a wife. Girlfriend? Maybe… The idea of another woman touching Castiel suddenly lit up a spark of jealousy Dean never knew existed.

"Sorry, uh, that was my colleague."  
Castiel gave an apologetic look, and licked his lips once. This Dean had noticed, how he'd lick his lips frequently, glazing them, all soft and plush.

"No worries man, but we should probably be moving too. Its hard to hear the announcements out here."

"Uh, yeah. Exactly."  
Castiel replied.

A second passed. Another second. Anddddd-

"So, uh, it was nice meeting you, Cas. Maybe I'll see you soon, huh."  
Dean smiled.

Castiel raised his eyebrow and then quickly melted into a smile.

"It was nice meeting you too Dean, and don't worry. Your flight will be better than before. Maybe restore your faith in aeroplanes?"

"I doubt I had any to begin with. But we'll see…"  
Dean shrugged dubiously, to which Castiel's smile broadened.

"We'll see..."

Castiel was breathing quite shallow, Dean realized. The silence made it easier to hear. His eyes had a glint of challenge but a peculiar sort of a hope. Like he was playing a game he knew he would win at. His breezy, blue eyes were set on Dean's. What was he thinking? Did he want this as much as Dean did? The light flow of conversation, no burdening questions, the comfort, the ease, the smoothness. Would he want to be with Dean just as much as Dean wanted to be with him?   
Maybe. Does he already have someone waiting for him? Perhaps. That person would have to be vey lucky indeed.

A beat passed, when Dean realized they had been staring at each other. As if on cue, the phone in Castiel's hand vibrated again, loud beeping ringtones blaring from it. Castiel winced, then looked at the caller. He took a deep breath and turned to Dean.

"Sorry, Dean, I should really be leaving."

"Yeah, uh, you did say there are important things you should be doing."  
 _Like me_. Dean's brain supplied, and he blew that thought away.

"Right. So, um, I'm gonna leave now."  
A brief second, and-  
"Bye."  
He smiled, and started walking away. Before Dean knew it, he was gone. Not a single trace of him, except in Dean's mind.

"Bye..."  
Dean whispered into the wind.

~•~

"Yes, Mom. Of course… No, I already took it before- yep… I'll be safe, mom, you know it. Besides, I'll focus on the assignment, so it won't bother me… Yeah, yeah, I'll eat and drink and I'll get something for you too just tell me what- hey, no, I want to get you something, what do you mean 'no'? Fine, I'll see… yeah… Yes, I love you… bye…"

Dean sighed and pushed his phone back into his pocket. He had already settled into his seat, one of the window ones (hell yeah).  
It had taken about an hour long after Castiel had left, that it had been time for boarding.   
As Dean had scrambled to his seat, amidst the cramped aisles and hoardes of people, he tried to look out for Castiel. His dark raven hair, or funny white shirt, or even his striking blue eyes. However, Dean had missed him. Was he late? Did he miss his flight? Did something happen? As time passed, the seats all filled up, and Dean felt a boulder settled down on his chest. Had Cas been bluffing? Maybe he was trying to cut Dean off. But what about that spark of hope, when Cas mentioned the flight?  
He probably changed his mind about Dean.

As everyone settled down, a tall, curvaceous stewardess walked up to the front of the aisle and shorter, more thin one in the middle of the aisle.  
The speakers buzzed with the sound of the pre-recorded announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard AA Flight 4645LP1 with service from Los Angeles to Paris. We are currently third in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately twelve minutes time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing American Airlines. Enjoy your flight."

Dean clicked the seatbelt, and dropped his head back. A new wave of nervousness engulfing him.  
He tried to remember Castiel's tip, and started rubbing circles on the mount of his palm, quietly humming his mom's favourite song.

 _Eleven more hours in this shithole_.  
Dean thought, and tried to shake off the claustrophobic feeling. A man next to him, blond with beautiful brown eyes, kept chewing a fruity scented gum, the scent of which tickled Dean's nostrills and made him want to puke. How people could chew that monstrous sugar laden piece of shit, Dean could never understand.

On the monitor in front of him, played the same video he'd seen before. The one with the safety instructions and other images. The speaker had a soft female voice giving the safety briefing.  
Sitting still was okay. Watching the video was okay.  
But when the plane started moving on the runway ten minutes later, it was not okay.

Dean took deep breaths, closing his eyes and thinking about Paris, the Eiffel tower, the beautiful city, the whole atmosphere. He tried to imagine how beautiful it would be. He'd been to Paris before, but briefly. His mind deviated, splurging into all different directions.  
Finally, recalling Cas's advice, he started multiplying.

 _Okay, thirteen times twleve? Thirteen on top, twelve below… three times two is six, two times one is two, now a blank and adding thirteen again- wait wait wait- fuck this, what about the table of eight? Okay, I can do this, I'm a grown man. I'm a friggin architect, I can do this. Eight times one is eight, eight times two is… sixteen, eight times three is… thirty four? No… twenty four.. eight times three is- oh wait I did that- eight times four is… thirty two…_  
"Eugh this is terrible."  
Dean frowned and the man next to him passed him a confused look.

"Sorry, I get nervous during take-off…"  
Dean mumbled apologetically.

"Dude we're in the sky."  
He commented, and went back to his phone.

"What?"  
Dean jerked his head to the side, only to be blinded by a pleasant blue sky, stretching as far as Dean's eyes could see.

Oh well.

As his mind returned to its sanity (honestly math sucks), he realized they had stopped moving, and people had taken their seatbelts off, all engaged in different activities, like their laptops, some reading, some on their phones, some watching a movie or some listening to music.

Wow. This was surprisingly easy.

But the absence of Cas filled Dean's heart with sadness. But hey, he was just some random dude in the bookshop, he was probably even straight. Someone as pretty as him, probably had a queue of girls and guys crushing on him.  
What if he was a serial killer? He probably could be a terrorist. Could he? He didn't really give off any creepy vibes…  
Shit, Dean, stop overthinking.

Shaking his head, Dean unbuckled his belt, and dug into his pocket for his phone and earphones. He connected them, and swiped through his playlist. Damn it, he forgot to add new songs. Sighing, he clicked on Shuffle, and dropped his head back.

A few seconds later, Bob Seger crooned through the earphones, filling Dean's head with images of dusty, silent autumn mornings, scent of cinnamon wafting through the air, a chill spreading and a blanket being tucked over tightly to keep him warm… Maybe there was someone else too… ? A lover?   
Dean would wrap his arms around his lover's naked torso, burying his face in their neck. He'd press chaste kisses in the curve of their shoulder, coaxing them with sweet words, bare limbs tangling under cover, shallow breaths filling the room.   
Maybe they'd make love, all sweaty and rough, or if there was more time, soft and deliberate. Moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls, echoing through the room. The heated touch of skin on skin, promises of love, and the sweet taste of lust filling both his lover and him.

It was about an hour of fantasies and music later, that Dean plucked his earphones out, a pale stewardess had stopped next to his row of seats, offering a complimentary drink. Dean opted for a mild cocktail, something tangy but delicious.

The speakers on the plane buzzed with a static, and then a voice was speaking.

"Good morning passengers."

Dean almost dropped his drink.   
What in the-

"This is your captain, Castiel Novak, speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on AA Flight 4645LP1. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. The time is 11: 48 a.m. The weather looks good and with the tailwind on our side we expect to land in Paris approximately fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. The weather in Paris is clear and mildly chilly. If the weather cooperates we should get there tonight by 10:15 p.m. or earlier. The cabin crew will be coming around to offer you a light snack and beverage, and the inflight movie will begin shortly after that. I'll talk to you again before we reach our destination."

The speaker buzzed off, and a second later, buzzed on again.

"This is your captain again. For all nervous and first time flyers, we assure you to sit back and relax, and trust us to get all of you there safely. Thank you."

The speaker buzzed off for the final time.   
Dean clutched onto his drink a little more tightly, taking a deep breath.

So he was wrong. Castiel _was_ on the plane. Castiel was controlling the plane.

 _Oh_.

Dean's mind plunged into the same rabbit hole called _Castiel._  
What if the last comment was directed towards Dean? Its not the kind of message that pilots usually give out on every flight. Except, Castiel knew what flight Dean was on. He knew Dean was here.   
Oh my. Dean found himself smiling at the thought of Castiel acknowledging him.

So one thing was clear, Castiel wasn't a serial killer or a terrorist, and there may be chance of him being just a teeny bit interested in Dean.   
That also explains his funky attire. His pants were probably part of his uniform, and maybe he was supposed to be wearing a blazer on top of the cotton t-shirt. Oh okay, that should be restricted territory. But… Cas would probably look really hot in a blazer. Formally dressed and looking sharp, but there was something warm and tender about the man that Dean just couldn't imagine as cocky and strict.   
He wasn't the kind of man Dean would peg as distasteful or boring. There was something youthful and vibrant about Cas. Something that made Dean want to wrap him up and smother him with kisses.

Dean hadn't felt this way in a long time. Not since Benny had left him for Andrea. But that was past and he wasn't going to spoil his mood thinking about double-faced cheating jerks.  
Stabling himself with a tight squeeze to the armrest, Dean took a sip of his cocktail, inserting his earphones back and letting Bruce Springsteen fill his ears with songs about love.

~•~

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. Local time is 9:59 p.m. and the temperature is 46°F.  
For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about. Cellular phones may only be used once the Fasten Seat Belt sign has been turned off.

Please check around your seat for any personal belongings you may have brought on board with you and please use caution when opening the overhead bins, as heavy articles may have shifted around during the flight.

If you require deplaning assistance, please remain in your seat until all other passengers have deplaned. One of our crew members will then be pleased to assist you.

On behalf of American Airlines and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice stay!”

Dean gave out a sigh of relief as the plane was on its way to a halt. The orange glow of the seatbelts sign was still on, and he quickly checked for his things. Looking out of the window, was not much of a different sight. Asphalt, aeroplanes, and a large building that was the airport. But the only difference was that it was dark.

The flight had been boring, if nothing. The day was spent with him sending out emails, assigning projects, completing his work on his laptop, listening to music, watching shitty movies and eating tasteless food. He'd taken a few short naps as well, and whenever it could, his mind would drift off to thoughts of Castiel.

Only thing worth, was probably the view of Paris and the Eiffel tower from up above. In fact, this he had realized due to the captain's announcement. Castiel's voice remained just as lively as from the morning, and part of Dean felt sad for the poor guy. He'd barely get to rest during the flight.

As the plane halted, Dean sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening, and someone always was. His mom had told him about the angels, they'd always watch over him.  
A few seconds of restlessness later, the seatbelt sign turned off.

The sound of seatbelts clucking off everywhere filled the air and soon, people were off their seats, opening the overhead compartments, taking their luggage out. Dean glanced at the front of the aisle, where the stewardess was standing, flashing warm smiles and greeting passengers off the plane. He wasn't in a hurry, so he let the others take their luggage, and when the number of people had reasonably decreased, he fetched his own bagpack.

He walked down the aisle, eyes set on the cockpit. When he reached the exit, the stewardess smiled.

"Thanks for choosing American Airlines, sir. Hope you had a pleasurable experience."  
She greeted with a practiced smile, and Dean glanced at her badge.

"Uh, yes, Jenny, thanks. I just uh, wanted to know, when do the pilots get off?"

Jenny gave Dean a confused look, then composed herself, and answered.

"After all the passengers, they, um, run a few last checks and reports, and then they leave the aircraft along with the cabin crew. It takes from half an hour to forty-five minutes. Is there any reason you're asking?"

"Uh, no, just curious."  
Dean smiled.

"Oh okay, goodbye sir."  
She arched an eyebrow and Dean took it as an awkward sign to leave.  
He nodded and walked through the jetway, which for some reason, kind of made Dean feel like a spy walking through a secret tunnel.

Outside, the usual airport buzz prevailed. However, people were speaking in English, French and some other weird languages (come on, its not like Dean's the smartest person you know) that added to the strange feeling of being in a foreign place. But the crowd was comparatively lesser than from the morning. Dean looked for the baggage claim area, and a sign to show which one was from his flight. Scrambling a few steps ahead, he finally found the baggage carousel and waited for his luggage. It wasn't much, just a dark maroon roller duffle bag.

He tugged on his grey zipper jacket to keep him warm from the chill in the air, as he waited patiently for his bag. His hair probably looked all mussed up and tousled from sleeping on the seat, and God knows he's exhausted. He glanced down at his black trousers and olive green shirt, feeling a tad bit conscious about his appearance. But screw that. Nobody knows him here, so who gives a fuck?

He spotted his bag and lifted it from the conveyor belt. He glanced at the formalities section and sighed.  
Damn it, Dean's really not in the mood to be frisked up by some dude. On other ocassions, hell yeah, but right now, he's just tired and wants nothing to do with aeroplanes or airports. Even when the airport around him looks like God frickin built it.

It took him almost half an hour to complete all formalities, and just as he was headed towards a fancy little restaurant (Dean's not gonna tell you the name cause he probably messed up the pronunciation and is too sissy to say), a voice called out. A very familiar voice.

"Dean!"

Dean jerked his head back, only to be met with sky blue eyes and a tired yet relieved smile.  
Dean smiled and if it weren't for the man being a person he met literally hours ago, Dean would be falling into his arms.

"Casti- no, Captain Novak."  
Dean tipped his head, raising his eyebrow at the young man in front of him.

"Surprise? I guess…"  
He smiled awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders, which made him seem smaller than he was.

"Yeah."  
A beat passed between them, as Dean continued to stare at Cas's face. Tired, but excited. Eager for more, yet wanting to rest. It was pretty much the same with Dean. Dean recalled the conversation he had with Cas in the morning, and was surprised how he couldn't pick up the fact that Cas was a pilot.

"How was your flight?"  
Castiel asked, tilting his head and finally breaking into a soft, quiet tone.

"Good enough to restore my faith in aeroplanes? I guess. Courtesy of one gorgeous pilot."  
He answered sheepishly, eyes still fixed onto Castiel's face. Cas blushed, looking away, trying not to meet Dean's eyes.

"I'm glad… Are you…? I don't know, mad, that I didn't tell you I was your pilot?"  
Castiel asked. His soft blue eyes bore into Dean's like a thunderstorm, and suddenly Dean was reminded of rains and lightening.

"'M not mad, but a little surprised, yes. I mean, it would've been better to know before hand that you were the dude flying my plane... I got really worried, I kept looking for you in the rows, and I didn't see you, then I thought maybe you were just blowing me off, ya know, to cut the conversation and stuff."  
Dean shrugged.

"Well, I really wouldn't cut off such an interesting person as you, Dean."  
Castiel stepped closer and whoa, okay, Dean's definitely not aroused by the slight raise of Cas's eyebrow and the fake innocence in his tone.

"Flattery isn't gonna make up for that."  
Okay, why are Cas's lips so perfect? Like, they're just there, so plush and peachy and perfect and God, how good would it feel to suck on them. Bet they're pretty soft and delicious- minty maybe? Oh, Dean _cannot_ wait to taste those amazing plump lips.

Okay abort abort abort, Dean's staring at them for too long.

"Then would dinner be fine? I know a few good places in Paris."  
Castiel lingered, licking his lips once, eyes roaming over every inch of Dean's face.  
 _Now's your chance, Deano_.

Dean tried to stop the sharp breath that left his mouth as he stepped closer, sliding his hand over Castiel's hand and gently caressing his knuckles.

"I don't think dinner's gonna be enough."  
Dean arced an eyebrow while Castiel glanced at their hands, and then broke into sweet grin.

"Oh, I can think of a lot of other ways to _please_ you, Dean."  
Castiel grinned, and slipped a firm hand around Dean's shoulders, eyes twinkling with a new eagerness and curiosity. Dean just smiled, knowing there was no other way to reply.

Now that it was clear where this night was headed, and how both of them were looking forward to the same thing, neither Dean nor Cas felt shy anymore.  
(Come on, Dean just got led on for sex, all shyness has already catapulted out of the window).

Dean simply looked at Cas. How he had this grace with the way he moved, even when he was tired. This adorable, gentle and soft streak, paralled with this bossy, hungry and cocky sliver of personality.

"Come with me tonight."  
Slipped out of Dean's mouth, before he could realise. It got lost in the moment however, and Castiel didn't flinch or wince or move away. Simply tightened his grip around Dean's body and smiled.

"That's exactly what I plan to do, Dean."  
Castiel replied with the same smile as before, and right now, in this moment, Dean couldn't care less about the buzz around him, or the chatter of people around him. All he cared for was Castiel, and how he blushed, how he smiled and how warm he felt against Dean.

~•~

"Exactly- I mean, obviously Rey should end up with Kylo, but the dude's evil. Poe and Finn give off this gay vibe, but whatever."  
Dean slurred, his fingers fumbling with the keycard to his hotel room. A slightly, scratch that, very drunken Castiel stumbled behind Dean, bumping shoulders mindlessly, clutching onto anything to stable him in the least.

"Yeah, but Rey is the good guy, erm, girl and Kylo is the bad- ohhhh… I see… I never really thought of it in a romantic way-"  
Castiel mused, and then looked at Dean as if he had revealed to Cas where Waldo was.

Even in his hammered state, Castiel looked like one of those Renaissance sculptures. Dean simply gazed at him for a moment and then replied.

"Yeah, well, getting drunk during a Star Wars movie marathon sure does help."  
He scoffed and turned around, and after almost three (failed) attempts, managed to insert the card in the slot.

"We should do that."  
Castiel suggested, slumping over Dean as he twisted the door knob and opened the door to his room.

"Probably when we're both back in LA."  
He replied, walking in. Castiel followed behind him and stretched his body, falling back against the door and closing it.

"Yeah."  
Came the low reply from Cas, and Dean had to look away to hide his flinch. They would both be on different ways the same time next night, but Dean didn't want to sulk about how less time he had with Cas. He wanted to make the most of it. That's why he invited Cas over to his room.

They had hailed a cab from the airport to one of the local diners around them. Dean's hotel was a good four star rated. Trust his company to make good choices. Castiel and Dean had chatted for hours, drinking, eating, laughing and falling in love just a bit more with each other.

Snapping back to reality, Dean saw Castiel falling almost asleep on the door, so he dashed over to him, and Castiel reflexively slouched over his shoulder. He seemed so young and soft in Dean's arms. He was strong and muscular, yes, but still Dean was a little broader and taller than him, and in that moment, Cas looked like a baby, falling asleep in Dean's arms.

"Cas…?"  
Dean asked, breaking the soft silence that spread over the room. Blinking with confusion, Castiel looked up at Dean through his sleepy, lust-induced eyes.

"Dean..."  
He mumbled.

Their eyes met and Dean felt the anticipation of their next move buzz all through his veins. The vibrant, colourful lights from the streets of Paris illuminated Cas's face just barely. Enough to show off his gorgeous eyes and jawline. Mindlessly, Dean caressed his fingers over Cas's cheek down to his lips, stopping to flick his bottom lip just a little. Castiel's eyes roamed over Dean's, studying his shadowed face. Dean's arms tightened around Castiel, who looked up at Dean as if he were the entire galaxy settled into one man.

Dean still felt this unusual feeling, how they went from being strangers at the airport in the morning, to falling in each other's arms in the night. There was a chaos inside him, every nerve and cell yelling at him to seize the moment, but also this feeling of calmness, like he had found the missing piece of a puzzle.

" _Dean please…_ _kiss me_ …"  
Castiel whispered softly against Dean's lips, faces _almost_  touching. Dean watched as Castiel's eyes fluttered shut, and he licked his lips to part them. His shallow breath, the scent of cheap grape wine still lingering in it was intoxicating for Dean. He let out a nervous breath, before closing his eyes and preparing himself to abosorb the feeling.

Ever so gently, Dean placed his lips onto Castiel's and Cas seemed to release a low, relieved moan. For a second there was not a single moment as both of them processed the feeling of closeness, the feeling of drowning in each other's embrace. It wasn't until Castiel's grip faltered against Dean's shoulder, hand dropping down to lace his fingers through Dean's, that both of them pulled back just enough to look at each other.

Dean's mouth felt suddenly dry, but also watered at the mere thought of touching Cas, feeling him, pleasing him.  
Castiel glanced once at Dean's chest absent-mindedly, still recovering from the barely-there kiss.

Dean watched Castiel assess the moment, his eyes thoughtful and gleaming. Dean, when his ability to actually think returned, dropped his hands from Castiel's neck down to his lower back, dangerously close to that ass Dean fantasized about.   
Just as Dean was about to say something, Castiel threw his arm around Dean's neck and pulled him down roughly into a fierce, energised kiss.

Dean tilted his head, and so did Cas, for better access to each other's lips.   
_Oh damn, this is so fucking hot._  
He slipped a leg in between Dean's thighs, rubbing it against Dean's growing erection. Dean's hands made their way towards Cas's waist, under his stupid white shirt, and Dean had the small capacity to think, and he pulled the t-shirt off of Cas's body, hands roaming over Castiel's toned stomach and his warm waist. Castiel let out a small growl, that seemed to awaken a different, more wild and vulgar side of Dean.

Their mouths never parted, licking and biting and fighting each other as if there were no more time left. Hastily and greedily, as if they were some precious gold. Fiercely and hungrily, as if they were the only two people in the world.  
There was a thick cloud of passion that laced the boldness, and Dean never realized when his shirt had been flung over to the other side of the room. Castiel, persistent on showing Dean just how good he could make him feel, pushed his lover towards the bed until Dean stumbled against it and fell back.

Castiel, much to Dean's surprise, stood for a moment, eyeing Dean salaciously, before giving a small smirk that had Dean breathless. Castiel moved over to Dean and climbed atop him, and Dean sat up, clueless as to what Cas was going to do next.

Slowly, Cas inched closer to Dean's face and cradled his jaw, pulling it forward to drop a gentle kiss on his lips. The brief kiss left Dean wanting for more, but the moment he felt a pair of sleek fingers unbuckle his belt, all the desperation washed away and was replaced with a burning desire for skin on skin touch.

Dean closed his eyes and fell back a little, propping himself up on his elbows. He noticed how Cas had this way of being wild but gentle at the same time. He wondered if that was just how Cas was. From his experience in the morning, he knew that Cas was adorable, a little playful and at times saucy. But how this dorky man turned suddenly into such a sex god, Dean could never understand. It felt like going from a rom-com to a porn movie.

 _What's with the weird analogies?_  
Dean scolded himself mentally but just then a pair of cold, numb fingers wrapped around his cock and he let out a shaky moan.

"C-Cas-aah…"

Another finger flew up to his lips, quietening him and Dean glanced at Cas, with a raised eyebrow. Castiel smiled, like actually, genuinely smiled, and fuck, Dean's a whipped man.   
Dean couldn't help the small smile lingering on his lips, and he just moved forward to stroke his fingers through Cas's hair.

"Dean… you just sit back... I'll take care of you… real _nice_ …"  
He smiled cheekily, and dipped down to steal a kiss from Dean's lips, before backing away and slowly pumping his hands up and down Dean's length. The cold air, mixed with the warmth Cas's fingers were giving out, and the steady, deliberate pumps were just enough and Dean knew if Cas kept that up, he'd spill over too soon.

A few strokes later the pumping stopped, and Dean was about to question, because in the dark, it was hard to see what the other was doing, the room barely lit by the outside light of   
the bright red and blue neon signs.   
Just as Dean was about to sit up, he heard the clinking of a belt, and the faint outline of Castiel's body became visible. Oh. He was taking his pants off, and damn, Dean wished he could turn the light on, only to look at Castiel's magnificent body.  
Or as it was in French.   
_Magnifique_.

His ruffled hair, paired with his bare chest and god, those thighs? Dean could beg to be crushed by those.   
Cas was climbing on him, pulling his boxers and pant off. Dean moved back so they could have more space on the bed. Castiel's warm legs settled between Dean's, and his body bent down.

"Holy sh…"  
Dean trailed off as Castiel wrapped his pretty pink lips around Dean's cock. He experimented a bit, licking long, slow stripes from the base of Dean's shaft to the tip. Dean's hands instinctively stroked through Cas's hair, as Cas continued licking long stripes all over Dean's cock. He flicked his tongue against the slit, curling his tongue around the small beads of pre-come pooling at the tip.

"Ah… Cas- just there-"  
Dean mumbled. A constant buzz prevailed through his body, but Dean didn't know if it was from the alcohol or Cas.   
Castiel shifted from stripes to little kitten licks, flicking his tongue chastely over the peachy, blunt head of Dean's cock, moaning obscenely, making Dean squirm and thrust his hips harder into Cas's face.   
The slow pace of Castiel's sucking ceased as Dean slammed into the back of Cas's throat, pushing his head vigorously down on his cock until Cas was choking, tears rolling down his eyes.   
He whimpered every time Dean struck the soft, wet spot down Cas's throat as far as it could go.

Castiel arced his back, his head bouncing up and down Dean's cock as brutally as possible. For a moment, Dean was worried. Was he being too harsh? Was Cas okay with this? But all his doubts washed away the moment Castiel came, spilling white warm liquid over Dean's thighs. He'd only let go of his mouth to yell out, borderline a scream- "Dean!"  
And boy if Dean wasn't already turned on before, this would've turned his cock ever harder.

The scene infront of him was so downright filthy and vulgar, Dean couldn't help himself. He pulled Cas up, hooking his leg around Cas's ass and hauling him forward. The sudden pull surprised Cas, and he laughed gently. The voice so innocent and sweet, melting into the chilly air surrounding them. Dean caressed the back of Cas's head, hands dancing over the nape of his neck. Castiel's laugh faded into a tender smile, and Dean just looked at him. Thinking bout how good it felt to be with Cas; How good Cas felt against his body. It was an intimate moment and they both knew, their gazes lingering on each other longer than they should. Castiel reached up to trace Dean's jawline, and Dean leaned into the touch.

As much as he refrained himself, thoughts of drifting away from Cas crept back into his mind. Tomorrow, he wouldn't be able to hold Cas like this, touch him like this, kiss him, take care of him, pamer him, talk to him, laugh with him like this.   
Tomorrow, he won't be with Cas. They'll be worlds apart. But Dean didn't want this to end. He wanted the night to go on for as long as it could, just so he could have Cas beside him. When Dean finally refocused his thoughts, he found himself riveted by the blue eyes peering at him.

"What is it Dean?"  
Castiel asked gently, his eyes softening and fingers wrapping around Dean's arm.

"I don't want to leave you tomorrow. I want to be with you, Cas, so so much."  
Dean confessed. Castiel just grinned and brushed a few messy strands of hair away from Dean's forehead.

"What?"  
Dean said, knitting his eyebrows together and pouting at Castiel's childish reaction. Castiel slinked an arm around Dean's neck and pulled him close, pressing their lips together chastely.

"Dean, baby, I want to be with you just as much. So what if we can't meet each other every day? We'll figure something out Dean. I know we will."

"We will?"

"Yes…"  
Castiel muttered against Dean's lips delicately, and nuzzled his nose against Dean's cheek, dropping a playful kiss on it.  
Dean just wrapped his arm around Cas's shoulders and kissed his temple.

As if to remind Dean what they were supposed to be doing, Cas rubbed his own sensitive cock against Dean's, causing Dean to be aroused again, his cock instantly reacting, twitching and leaking prec-come just a little. Castiel followed just after, his cock hardening gradually.

Cas adjusted his legs so that he was straddling Dean's thighs, and he hooked his arms around Dean's neck, rubbing his cock against Dean's, the friction becoming hotter every passing second.

"Dean... As much as I appreciate the moment we shared, can you please get to fucking me? I'm very horny right now."  
Castiel looked at Dean with pleading eyes, and all the air from Dean's chest had suddenly vanished. Dumbstruck, he nodded; mind barely able to function as Castiel moaned again, filthier than before.

"Aunh- Dean- need to… to- ahh… want to… ride you…"  
Castiel buried his head in the crook of Dean's neck, and ground his cock against Dean's causing even more friction.

"Anything you need, sweetheart, just uhm, give me a second-"  
Dean licked his lips and looked down at the floor where his pants lay in a mess.

Castiel seemed to follow and without getting off of Dean, reached down for the pant and handed it to Dean.  
Dean nodded, and took a small box of condoms and a travel pack of lube out. Cas noticed it wasn't even opened, and gave a small smirk at that.

"When did you get these?"

"Pharmacy."

Castiel knitted his eyebrows together in deep thought, and then parted his mouth only to let out a long 'oh'.

"Oh… So these were your calcium pills?"

Dean nodded and recalled the incident where he had asked Cas to wait, while he visited the pharmacy. He bought the condoms and lube, just in case.

"Well, you came prepared."  
Castiel traced his thumb over Dean's bottom lip.

"Well, you were just too irresistible to keep my hands to myself."  
Dean coaxed, and Cas gave one of those soft laughs.

"Alright, now can I please ride you?"

"Don't even need to ask.".  
Dean replied, and hastily took out a silver packet, holding it to his teeth and ripping it off. Castiel had moved from grinding to pumping lousy strokes on Dean's cock, just to keep it aroused.

Dean rolled on the latex, and using his nails, flicked open the cap of the lube bottle.

"Babe, can you uh-"  
Dean motioned for Cas to raise his hips.

"Oh um, yeah."  
Castiel replied awkwardly, and stabling himself on Dean's shoulder, lifted his hips so that there was space for Dean's hand. Dean squirted some if the lube on his hand and rubbed it together to warm it up a bit. He knew how bad of a turn off cold lube was.  
Castiel watched him with the eyes of a hawk, studying his every move.

Dean slowly reached his lube slicked fingers over the cleft of Castiel's ass. Two of his fingers rubbed over Cas's perineum, coming down to fondle his balls, teasing and roaming every where but over Cas's hole. Dean could feel Castiel growing impatient but still aroused.

"Ungh- Dean- stop teasing me-"   
He said breathlessly, head lolling down onto Dean's shoulder, thighs rubbing against Dean's own. Dean turned his head a little to try and look at Cas. He made sure his fingers rubbed across the cleft, but no where near its intended target.  
He reached his other hand up to brush Cas's hair away from his eyes, placing a soft, intimate, lingering kiss on his lips.  
He traced his fingers around the tight ring of muscle, the light pucker at the entrance of Castiel's hole and Castiel arced his back up at the touch, surprising not only Dean but himself.

He blushed and looked away with embarrassment.   
"Sorry, I uh, don't know why I-"  
Dean captured his lips before he could speak again and just with the moment, he slipped his middle finger inside. He could almost feel the younger man gasp against his cheek.

"Dean oh… yes…"  
Castiel moaned quietly as Dean's finger prodded Cas's hole. Slick with lube, his digit prressed against the tight wall of muscle, the heat engulfing his finger was unbelievable and Dean curled his finger slightly, his nail grazing the soft flesh.

"Dean, more, please-"

Dean carefully stretched the tight hole and made way for his index finger. The stretch caused a slight twinge of pain and Cas shifted to adjust himself better. Before Dean could push his fingers further inside, Castiel was rolling down on them, fucking himself onto Dean's fingers, sucking and kissing wantonly over Dean's neck.

If a Heaven exists, this is what Dean's looks like.

"Hurry up- want to feel your cock inside me- Dean…"  
Castiel purred and flicked his tongue over Dean's earlobe, nipping at it and sucking down on the spot below his ear.

 _Dean Winchester has shut down._  
If you ask Dean he'll say he probably lost all ability to comprehend the moment Cas fucked himself on his fingers, but come on, lets be real. Dean lost it the moment he met Cas.

"Yeah uh- need to stretch you first, darling."  
Dean reminded.

"No enough- need your cock inside me… Right. Now."  
Castiel squeezed Dean's bicep in a threat and Dean was caught between chuckling and being completely dumbstruck. Cas's strokes on Dean's cock became even more erratic as Castiel tried to rock forward.

"Uh, okay- um-"  
Dean glanced at Cas once, but their eyes met, and Cas held his gaze firmly, while lining Dean's cock with his hole. Dean doesn't remember when his hands fell back, or when he went into autopilot, but all he could do was _watch_ , as Castiel sensually and really fucking slowly slid himself down.   
Dean felt the tip plunging into the pucker, and the way Cas slid down, inch by inch, thick heat surrounding Dean's cock, oh hell.

Once Castiel was fully seated onto Dean's cock, and when the head brushed against the one place Dean knew would drive Cas crazy, he smiled. Castiel however, gripped Dean's shoulder, and gave out a long, distressed moan. He started moving, just a bit, rolling his hips back and forth. His grip on Dean's shoulder tightened and it would probably leave marks, but that was least of his concerns.

The awkwardness dissipated the moment Cas raised his hips and slammed down on Dean's cock. Dean felt electrocuted, the tension in the air rising. He held on to Castiel's hips, raising them above his cock, and then leaned forward for a kiss, before pushing upwards, and then rolling his hips. Castiel moaned into their kiss, hands reaching from shoulder to his tangled hair, pulling, squeezing, anything to grip.

Dean maintained the same rhythm before Castiel started pushing down, keen on riding Dean himself. He gyrated his hips, rolled them, rocked them, anything for friction. And Dean? He was fazed, completely.   
But that's usually what happens when a man as attractive as Castiel is riding your dick.

Moans spilled out their lips endlessly, pleas and cries filling the room. The once chilly room had turned hot and tensed as Dean and Cas continued making love.  
Castiel was a god. Literally, with the way he rode Dean, it was almost heavenly. Dean, having nothing to do with his hands, started pumping Cas's dick, and he really hadn't expected the gentle moans his touch would elicit.  
Under a more sober circumstance, it would've been less awkward, and they could've done it for hours, and hell, Dean would've probably been fine enough to fuck him limp on the edge of the bed but they were both minutes away from passing out and when Dean felt the familiar pleasing feeling pooling in his stomach and cock, he surrendred to it.

"Cas!"  
Dean came with a loud cry, and Castiel remained still on his cock, feeling the condom fill up. He pulled Dean in for a brief, sloppy, wet kiss that had Dean drooling (literally) and Cas chuckled. Dean realized Cas still hadn't come yet and hey, everyone deserves to feel pleased, so Dean just sat like that, stroking Cas's cock. Castiel didn't move off Dean, remained seated on his cock and hell, if he wasn't already worn out, he'd be right into fucking Cas again.   
But a few strong pumps later, Cas spilled on Dean's stomach and moaned out Dean's name, long and deliberate and Dean just fell in love a little more.

Their eyes were heavy with sleep and intoxication, and Castiel finally pulled off, and stretched his back a little. The brief yellow light from outside highlighted Cas's chest and if Dean wasn't as hammered as he was, he would've probably taken his time to kiss up that perfect chest and play with those pink perky nipples.

Cas searched around for something while Dean rolled the condom off, sticky and full, and cursed under his breath for the trashbin being so far away next to the dresser. He got his drunken ass up, come still drying on his stomach, and threw the condom in the bin. When he looked back, Castiel was wiping his stomach and arms with someone's shirt. Dean smiled at how exhausted he looked. It had been  
a hectic day for Cas, but he'd still done this.

"Cas?"  
Dean doesn't know why he called Cas's name.

"Yes, Dean?"  
Cas answered with the same tender smile except now it was lined with weariness.

Dean thought for a moment. He had no clue what to say.

"I want to kiss you."  
He mumbled like a child.   
It didn't seem awkward though, two broad men, standing stark naked in the middle of the room, having a conversation.

Castiel simply chuckled and walked over to Dean, wiping his stomach and arms.

"Who's stopping you?"  
Castiel said endearingly.

Dean cupped Cas's cheek with a lousy hand, and tilted it up to drop a soft, savouring kiss on Cas's lips.  
The shirt was long forgotten, fallen down right next to them, as Castiel wrapped his warm arms around Dean's waist and nuzzled into Dean's neck.

"We'll probably fall asleep here. Come on, lets get to bed."  
Dean kissed Cas's forehead once and Cas hummed in agreement. Then they untangled from each other, and Cas climbed onto the bed, followed by Dean. The chill in the room became a little more prominent now, and Dean pulled the covers up on them as Cas snuggled closer to Dean's body.

Dean held him in his arms and thought about how he could get used to this… Making sweet love with Cas and then having him falling asleep in his arms…

"Tomorrow morning, we'll have even better sex."  
Dean commented, before closing his eyes. The only reply he got was a tight squeeze and a kiss on his neck.

~•~

 

**Author's Note:**

> As promised another fluff/smutty bottom cas oneshot!  
> also if anyone gets where i got the title from leave a kudos!  
> please share and comment cause honestly i love it when you guys tell me what you thought about the story!


End file.
